Colleen McCullough - Morgan’s Run

“It was not my fault!” gasped Hunter, face cut, skin so white that he looked about to faint. “We could not keep her in stays, we could not! The moment the wind shifted, the sails backed-it all happened so fast-so fast!”

“I have not convened this meeting to apportion blame, Captain Hunter,” said Ross crisply; he was in control, and for once the Royal Navy would have to bow to a member of a corps did not have the right to call itself “Royal.” “What we are here to discuss is the fact that a settlement which six days ago held one hundred and forty-nine people will now contain more than five hundred people, including over three hundred convicts and eighty-odd men off Sirius. The latter will not, as seamen, be of much use either in governing convicts or working land. Mr. King, d’ye expect that Governor Phillip will send Supply back here from Port Jackson?”

King’s expression was a compound of shock and bewilderment, but he shook his head emphatically. “No, Major Ross, ye cannot count on Supply’s returning. As I understand it, Port Jackson is starving and His Excellency very much fears that England has-for what reason no one knows-forgotten us. With Sirius gone, Supply is the only link he has with other places. She will have to go either to Cape Town or Batavia for provisions, and my bet is that His Excellency will choose Batavia because ’twill be an easier voyage for such an old, fair-weather ship. His chief concern is that somebody must get home to remind the Crown that conditions in both settlements are appalling. Unless, that is, a storeship should arrive. But that, gentlemen, grows less rather than more likely.”

“We cannot count on anything except the worst, Mr. King, so we will not entertain the hope of a storeship. There is wheat and Indian corn in the granary but planting is still at least two months off and harvesting eight or nine months off. If we manage to get all the provisions off Sirius before she sinks”-he ignored the look on Hunter’s face-“I estimate that we can feed everybody for three months at most. Fishing will have to be continuous, and whatever edible birds we find we will also consume.”

Brightening, King said eagerly, “I told ye of the summer bird wails like a ghost, but there is also a winter bird. It is a fat and tasty sea bird arrives about April and remains until August. It uses the mountain, which is why we have never bothered to try to eat it in any quantity-the walk is long and perilous without any paths. However, it is so tame that a man can walk straight up to it and grab it. There are thousands upon thousands of them. They fish out to sea all day and come in on dusk to their burrows, the same as the summer ghost birds. If things become desperate, they are a source of food. All ye’d have to do is cut paths.”

“I thank ye for that information, Mr. King.” Ross cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, what worries me most is mutiny.” He glared at his marine officers. “I do not necessarily mean a convict mutiny. Many of my enlisted men are ruffians who must be kept supplied with rum. And when I said that we have provisions enough to last three months, I include rum in that estimate. I must conserve enough rum for my officers, which will cut rations for the enlisted men. Not to mention that Captain Hunter’s seamen will also expect their rum-is that not so, Captain?”

Hunter swallowed. “Aye, Major Ross, I fear so.”

“Then,” said Ross, “there is only one solution. Law Martial. Theft of anything by any man, free or felon, will be punishable by death without trial. And, gentlemen, I will enforce it, have no doubts about that.”

This announcement was greeted with a profound silence. The noises of those toiling outside to retrieve men and supplies from Sirius percolated through the walls of Government House, a reminder of prevailing chaos.

“On Monday,” said Ross, “the entire complement of those on this island will assemble at eight o’clock beneath the Union flagstaff, when I will inform them of the new state of affairs. Until then, gentlemen, button your mouths as tight as a fish’s arsehole. I mean that. If news of Law Martial leaks out before Monday morning, I will have the offender flogged no matter how exalted his rank. Ye are at liberty to go.”

Property andprovisions continued to come off Sirius; the stock-pigs and goats-were simply thrown overboard and herded by boats and swimmers in the direction of the beaches, with surprisingly few casualties. Though her back was broken, the vessel showed no sign of coming apart or sinking; casks, barrels, kegs and sacks were ferried ashore. She lay sometimes stern off the reef, sometimes stern on, always pinioned by her midships and remorselessly pounded by gale-whipped seas, but somehow as each day passed she never seemed to look worse.

At eight on Monday morning every single soul was herded into position at the Union flagstaff, the marines and seamen lined up on the right, the convicts on the left, with the officers in the center right below the flag.

“As commandant of this English colony, I hereby declare that the Law Martial will come into effect as of this moment!” shouted Major Ross, his stentorian voice assisted by a wind west of southwest. “Until God and His Britannic Majesty send relief we are thrown upon our own resources. If we are to survive, then every last man, woman and child will have to work with two goals in mind-to build shelter from the elements and produce food. On my count, there are five hundred and four persons who will be remaining here after Supply sails-over triple the number a week ago! I am not about to disguise the fact that starvation stares us in the face, but of one thing I can assure ye-no one here- no one! -will have a scrap more to eat than all have to eat. God is trying us as He tried the Israelites in the desert, but we can lay no claim to the virtue of that ancient and admirable people. What happens to us rests squarely upon our own resourcefulness-our will to work hard, our will to behave with the interests of all at heart, our will to survive in the teeth of terrible adversity!”

He paused, and those near enough could see the bitter look on his face. “Ye are no Israelites, I repeat that! Among ye are the scum of the earth, the dregs of humanity, and I will deal with ye accordingly. For those who bear their misfortunes with grace and unselfishness, there will be rewards. For those who steal food from the mouths of others, the penalty is death. For those who steal to barter, to have more comfort, to get drunk, or for any other reason, I will flay ye until the bones show from neck to ankles! Man or woman makes no difference, nor will children be let off lightly. The Law is Martial, which means that I am your judge, jury and executioner. I care not if ye fornicate, I care not if ye work in your own time to grow a little more or house yourselves, but I will not countenance the slightest infringement of the general public good! For the first six weeks every single vegetable and fruit will go to Government Stores, but I expect that all men and women commence this very moment to grow vegetables and fruit to augment the Government supply, which means that at the end of those six weeks all with productive gardens will contribute only two-thirds of what they grow to Government Stores. My motto is productiveness through labor, and that applies as much to the free as to the convicted.”

His lip lifted in a snarl. “I am Major Robert Ross, and my reputation precedes me! I am Lieutenant-Governor of Norfolk Island, and what I say is no less the Law than if it issued from the King’s own mouth! Now I will have three cheers for His Royal Majesty King George, and make them loud! Hip-hip!”

“Hurrah!” everybody bellowed, and twice more.

“And three cheers for Lieutenant King, who has worked wonders! Mr. King, I salute ye and wish ye Godspeed. Hip-hip!”